


suddenly here we are (thinking "what are the odds")

by xslytherclawx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Canon Jewish Character, M/M, POV Alternating, Romantic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-11-07 08:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17956961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx
Summary: Anthony Goldstein was Jewish. That meant a lot of things, really, and most of them important, but in the context of his soulmate, it meant that one of the subjects touched upon in Hebrew school was that he could end up switching bodies with his soulmate from the exact moment he turned thirteen.Neville Longbottom knew, in his heart of hearts, that his soulmate had to be Luna Lovegood. And Luna was half a year younger than him. So he really didn’t expect anything unusual on his seventeenth birthday.





	1. 1997.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm not the first one to do a body-switch soulmate AU, but for those unfamiliar, basically the soulmate bond works in a way that you switch bodies with your soulmate when you come of age (in this case, whatever "of age" means to you/in your culture - hence Anthony, who is Jewish, being of age at thirteen, and Neville, who is not - but who _is_ a wizard - being of age at seventeen), and, in this one, you have to touch each other (just simple skin-to-skin contact, nothing more excessive than a handshake) to get set right.  
> Obviously in the context of the Second Wizarding War, I thought this could play out interestingly, and I have a few ideas about other soulmate pairs.
> 
> This is, for all intents and purposes, not compliant with my other fics, and if I do write a few other soulmate fics like this (as I've planned), those might not be compliant with endgame ships in my other fics. That said, if you read my Ravenclaw AU, you'll be familiar with some of the minor/mentioned characters (but you don't need to, by any means)
> 
> We have some alternating POV within each chapter here, so POV changes are marked with a page break, while normal page breaks within the same POV have been replaced by dashes for easier readability.
> 
> Title from Saves the Day "Ring Pop" because I'm forever emo trash

Anthony Goldstein was Jewish. That meant a lot of things, really, and most of them important, but in the context of his soulmate, it meant that one of the subjects touched upon in Hebrew school was that he could end up switching bodies with his soulmate from the exact moment he turned thirteen.

It wasn’t just in the abstract, either. It had happened to his Uncle Isaac, and to his Aunt Miri. Both of their soulmates had been Jewish even then, but both of their soulmates were also substantially older than them. Uncle Isaac had had the added minor emotional trauma of finding out that he was bisexual by finding himself in the body of a seventeen-year-old Muggleborn boy in America. Even though Aunt Miri’s soulmate had been eighteen at the time, at least she’d known she was attracted to boys – and she’d been in Britain.

His father warned him that it might not happen for years; not just because Uncle Dan and Uncle Iain had been older when it had happened for them, but because it hadn’t happened for him until he’d been seventeen for some months – and Anthony’s mother was only a few months younger than his father. Being Jewish, after all, didn’t mean your soulmate was Jewish, or – if they were – that they’d been Jewish at thirteen.

So Anthony only felt mildly disappointed when nothing happened when he turned thirteen, even though he’d told Terry and Michael that it could. Just so they’d be prepared. It didn’t happen the next year, or the year after that, so Anthony came to terms with the fact that  _ whoever _ his soulmate was, muggle or witch or wizard, they were either younger than him, or not Jewish (or not Jewish  _ yet). _

He didn’t know why he expected anything to happen when he turned seventeen, and with the war brewing, Anthony could only hope that finding his soulmate held off a few more years. At least until the end of the war. There was even an actual battle with actual Death Eaters at Hogwarts and Dumbledore was murdered on campus. If that wasn’t a sign for things to calm the fuck down, he thought as he visited his fellow D.A. members in the hospital wing, it was surely something.

Neville said something to the same effect. “You know, I turn seventeen in July. I couldn’t imagine – I hope my soulmate is younger than me. But at the same time – maybe the sooner, the better? Before things get any worse, anyway.”

“That’s assuming your soulmate lives in Britain,” Anthony said. “My uncle’s soulmate is American.”

Neville buried his face in his hands. “This is too much.”

Anthony wanted to say that he was sure it’d all work out, but, well, he wasn’t sure of that at all.  All he was sure of was that Zacharias Smith wasn’t his soulmate, because Zach’s birthday had come and gone, and he felt no small relief that that.

-

It turned out that Anthony didn’t have long to wait. Things were stressful at home, and his parents were discussing making aliyah or maybe emigrating to live with his uncles in America, and he went to bed feeling depressed. He fell asleep, as he always did in the summer, in his bedroom in his parents’ house in Golders Green.

He fully anticipated waking up in the same room, so when he found himself in a smaller bed the next morning, he opened his eyes to see a wholly unfamiliar room.

His first thought was,  _ so much for waiting until after the war. _

The second was that there was entirely too much red and gold for his soulmate not to be a Gryffindor. The third was that there were several rare and unusual plants. The fourth, of course, was,  _ wait, isn’t today Neville’s birthday? _

He’d always assumed Neville to be straight. But he knew all of the Gryffindors in his year (it wasn’t hard; there were only eight of them). Most of them had turned seventeen already. Except, that was, for Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter. 

So he looked around the room and found a mirror.

Looking back at him was Neville Longbottom.

Well, at least his soulmate wasn’t American.

* * *

Neville Longbottom knew, in his heart of hearts, that his soulmate had to be Luna Lovegood. And Luna was half a year younger than him. So he  _ really _ didn’t expect anything unusual on his seventeenth birthday. He knew his gran was hoping that he’d find himself partnered with some clever, brave, talented Gryffindor girl (someone like Hermione, really, only not  _ actually _ Hermione, because Neville would never survive  _ that). _

He certainly didn’t expect to wake up in another bedroom. Well, he supposed, at least he’d been born in the middle of the night, and he and his soulmate had both been asleep. Injuries regarding soulmate switches weren’t exactly uncommon.

He didn’t think he could be blamed that his first reaction was to check that he was still in his own body by feeling his chest (flat), groin (definitely a man), and then, when he was thoroughly confused, looking at his hands to try to get any answer of that. 

They weren’t his hands, that was for sure. His own fingers were longer, his own hands calloused from work in the greenhouses. These hands were smooth, and the fingers shorter and slimmer.

Which meant, somehow, that his soulmate was another wizard.

Which didn’t make any sense at all.

Neville was  _ straight. _

He lifted up his shirt and looked down. Definitely a wizard’s chest. But not his. He looked down the pyjama pants, just to check, and – yes, that was  _ definitely _ a penis. Definitely not his, but a penis nevertheless.

Oh, this was bad. He didn’t  _ like boys, _ not like that.

Maybe if he tried to go back to sleep, it would all go away. Yes. That was it. This was just some bizarre dream, fuelled by anxiety and a sense of dread, and of  _ course _ Luna was properly his soulmate, because he was straight. He’d go back to sleep, and then he’d wake up in his own bed in his own body like none of this had ever happened, because none of this  _ was _ happening.

When Neville woke up again, he was still in the same room, and presumably still in the same body (but he didn’t check this time). He didn’t let himself think about what that meant. He was straight. He was in love with Luna. He wanted to kiss and touch and hold  _ Luna. _ Not – whoever this was.

He needed to get to an owl, so he could send an owl to himself. He didn’t want to risk Floo when he didn’t know where he was. He remembered, unbidden, what Anthony had said about his uncle, whose soulmate had been in  _ America. _ Britain was in the middle of a war, and Dumbledore had just died just a month before. What would he do then? What would his  _ gran _ do when she found out his soulmate was another man?

He tried to bury himself in the blankets to refuse to acknowledge the reality of the situation, but he was disturbed by a knock at the door. He didn’t respond, but he poked his head over the covers to keep an eye out. A beautiful, older blonde witch opened the door after knocking a few more times. “Love, are you feeling all right?”

She was Scottish. Neville had never been so happy to hear a Scottish accent before. Most Scottish people, after all, lived in the U.K., and so he’d be able to Floo home. “Fine,” he managed, realising too late that his voice, while not  _ his, _ still had his  _ accent. _ Hopefully she didn’t notice. “Didn’t sleep well last night.”

He realised with a start that he recognised the witch. She was a Healer at Saint Mungo’s. She didn’t work in the ward where his parents lived, but he knew he’d seen her in Spell Damage, wearing lime green Healers’ robes. What was her name? If he could just remember her name…

“I know all the talk of emigrating last night was unsettling, but – with what happened to Dumbledore, who knows if Hogwarts will be safe for your seventh year? You’ll need to be able to focus on your exams, and you know your uncle Isaac can get you into the yeshiva for the year. He says they’re rather used to last-minute transfers.”

Neville was caught between trying to figure out who his soulmate was (there were only so many boys in his year, after all, and fewer still with Scottish Healer mothers), and trying desperately to pretend that none of this was happening.

The witch, as it turned out, resolved that dilemma for him. “Anthony,” she said, and the name shot through him like a particularly nasty hex. He only knew one Anthony, let alone an Anthony at Hogwarts in his year – whose parents were Healers, even. “Bubbeleh, I know it’s hard, but you didn’t live through the last war. It’s just a miracle that your bubbe and zeyde were able to get out when they did.”

Anthony Goldstein was his soulmate. This was almost cruel. Of all the blond-haired, blue-eyes Ravenclaws – why not Luna Lovegood? Why Anthony Goldstein?

“I’m going to go make lunch,” Mrs. Goldstein said. “D’you fancy anything in particular?”

“I – I think I need to see a friend from school this afternoon.”

“After lunch,” Mrs. Goldstein said. “And be home by sundown. Apparate directly to their house, and be sure to ask them a security question – something only the two of you would know.” 

Neville didn’t have his apparation license, but he hadn’t splinched himself yet. He nodded. “All right.”

Mrs. Goldstein left the room, and Neville tried to force himself to stay calm. He went over to the wardrobe and put on clothes without looking what he was doing. He didn’t care if they matched or even really fit. He needed to get this over with as soon as possible.

He was about to leave the bedroom to try to find the kitchen (or dining room?) when he heard the distinct scratching of an owl at the window. He looked to find his gran’s owl, so he let her in. She bore a letter addressed to Anthony – but it was his  _ gran’s _ owl, and  _ Anthony’s  _ handwriting. So he opened the letter.

There was nothing to give away what had happened.

> _ Dear Anthony, _
> 
> _ I’ve been thinking this morning about our discussion in the hospital wing last month. I feel as if I’ve a new perspective to offer, but it feels impersonal over owl. If you’d like to stop by, we could discuss it in person. I’d offer to visit you in London, but I don’t have my apparation license, as I’m sure you know. _
> 
> _ Please reply, _
> 
> _ Neville _

It was  _ weird _ to see his own signature in someone else’s handwriting. He wrote back that he remembered the discussion and would stop by after lunch.

* * *

Anthony had been careful to avoid spending too much time with Neville’s grandmother, which meant spending his time in a greenhouse on the property, holed up with the first book he’d seen. He’d known Neville came from an old pureblood family, not dissimilar to the one his own mother had grown up in, but the Longbottoms’ house and grounds were  _ huge. _

He was only mildly surprised to find a House Elf in the greenhouse, tending to some of the plants. He couldn’t picture Neville’s grandmother caring for the plants when he was at school, so he supposed it made sense.

Anthony had only seen a House Elf once, at his great-grandfather’s house, when he was six years old. His mother had criticised her grandfather’s complacency with slavery, and Anthony had never seen the House Elf again. He wasn’t stupid. He knew Hector Fawley had kept the Elft, and had simply told her to hide when the Goldsteins visited. He knew, too, that there were House Elves at Hogwarts, but that didn’t really prepare him for the reality of seeing one in the Longbottoms’ home, of all places.

He managed to convince the Elf to leave him in peace until lunch, which was served to him in the greenhouse. It was, thankfully, codfish, so he was able to eat it without feeling guilty. When the Elf served him lunch, he asked her to bring him some parchment, ink, and a quill.  He wrote a note to Neville – addressed to himself. He instructed the Elf to send it off. He felt bad using a House Elf – contrary to everything he’d grown up to believe, but it was either ask the Elf, or out Neville to his apparently extraordinarily strict grandmother, who expected him to live up to his auror parents’ legacy.

Hopefully Neville would come as soon as he received the letter. Anthony didn’t know how long he could avoid Augusta Longbottom in her own home by hiding out in the greenhouse with what had turned out to be one of Gilderoy Lockhart’s garbage books.

Neville showed up about an hour later. Anthony hadn’t fully anticipated how bizarre it would be to look back at himself from outside of his own body. Was this how other people saw him? His hair was a mess, his clothes mismatched, and Neville, in Anthony’s body, looked panicked. It was a miracle he hadn’t splinched himself.

“Anthony,” Anthony said, because the House Elf (whose name he still didn’t know) was nearby. “How good to see you.”

“Can we just…?”

“First,” Anthony said, “What  _ did _ you say in the hospital wing that day?” Because there  _ was _ a war going on, and while he didn’t think anyone would actually try to impersonate him or use the Imperius (especially with Neville in his body), it didn’t hurt to be safe.

“Er,” Neville said, “I was nervous about finding my soulmate in the middle of a war a month after Dumbledore died.”

“And you said that your uncle Isaac’s soulmate was still living in America when they switched.”

Neville frowned.  _ “My _ uncle Isaac?”

“Anthony Goldstein’s uncle.”

Neville seemed to relax, but only slightly. “You haven’t told anyone?”

Anthony shook his head. “No. And – here, let’s, er, shake hands, shall we?” He extended his hand for good measure.

Neville hesitantly reached out and shook it. When their hands touched, in the blink of an eye, they were set right – Anthony was back inside his own body, and he was looking at Neville properly.

“Er,” Anthony said. “Do you want to – talk about it?”

“No,” Neville said. “Anthony, I’m – I’m  _ straight. _ And I’m in love with Luna. I don’t – I don’t know  _ what _ this is, but we  _ can’t.” _

Anthony really hadn’t expected much better. He’d hoped, of course, but he’d known he was bi for years, and even he didn’t think he had feelings for Neville, specifically. He couldn’t imagine how awful it would be if he weren’t comfortable in his sexuality.

“All right,” he said. “And – you know my parents are trying to – emigrate, right?”

“Your mum said,” Neville said.

“I don’t really – want to go,” Anthony said. “But – you’ll know if you don’t see me in September.”

“Well,” Neville said. “I – I hope you stay safe.”

“You, too,” Anthony said. “We won’t let this spoil our friendship, right?” Not that they’d been particularly  _ close _ friends, but… still.

“Right,” Neville said.

Anthony didn’t quite believe him, but he knew better than to argue. He said his goodbyes and apparated home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do i have any idea how i became so invested in this rarepair? no. do i care? not particularly.


	2. 1998.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even Hogwarts isn't safe from the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super thrilled with the pacing in this part, but my attempts to edit it didn't really solve that problem.

It had been surprisingly easy to ignore the fact that his soulmate was another man after everything that had happened. It was a struggle to stay safe and protect the younger students, day after day. (and “safe”, really, was relative). He couldn’t _let_ himself think about love and soulmates or his own sexuality. When his thoughts would wander in that direction, he'd sternly correct himself. He had more important things to worry about.

If he’d felt vaguely ill when he’d caught Anthony snogging Zacharias Smith in a dark corner of the Room of Requirement, it wasn’t because he was was homophobic, because he wasn’t! And he didn’t have _feelings_ for Anthony, either, and so who was he to begrudge a friend some stress relief? Merlin knew they all needed something.

It was fine. He’d finish this year (survive) and then – well, he couldn’t think that far ahead. He didn’t know what would happen. Some people might be able to think of the future, but the most specific Neville allowed himself to get was a future in which the war was over and Voldemort and his supporters were dead. His own life didn’t factor into it.

And then Harry returned, and it became apparent that a battle was going to happen at Hogwarts – something much worse than the one the year before. He saw Luna and remembered hugging her out of sheer relief that she was _alive,_ at least for now. She was warm and solid and there and _alive,_ and it didn’t matter that they weren’t soulmates, because she was one of his dearest friends, and she was _alive._

Well, at least for the time being. She had come rushing back to fight in a battle, after all.

-

Neville was acutely aware that he’d nearly died. In front of everyone, no less. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he’d stand up to Voldemort directly, but then he had. And Harry had duelled Voldemort, and Voldemort was dead, and Bellatrix, too.

(And so was Colin Creevey. And Fred Weasley. And Professor Lupin. And far too many others.)

He couldn’t sit still, so he went to the Hospital Wing. He ran into his grandmother along the way, and really couldn’t remember what she said to him, but he managed to appease her somehow.

He arrived at the Hospital Wing, and saw Anthony, who was helping Madam Pomfrey, before Anthony saw him. But Anthony _did_ see him.

“Neville! Has anyone looked at you? Are you all right?”

Neville _meant_ to say that he was fine, but the words stuck in his throat. Anthony was his _soulmate._

Without fully realising what he was doing, he walked toward Anthony and, in a few strides, closed the distance between them and kissed him. He knew he probably wasn’t any good at it, thought Anthony probably still had something or other going on with Zacharias Smith, but he didn’t care.

He’d nearly died. Voldemort had tried to burn him to death, and he’d _survived_ and killed the snake, and – Anthony was kissing him back. Anthony Goldstein was kissing him back, in the hospital wing, in front of Madam Pomfrey and other survivors and maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but then he felt Anthony wrap his arms around him, and Neville thought that kissing for a bit couldn’t _hurt._

Surely everyone else understood that Neville (and probably Anthony, too) was running purely on adrenaline. He was sure he wasn’t the only one doing something stupidly reckless right now, because he was alive and Anthony was alive and Voldemort and Bellatrix were dead and the Carrows wouldn’t be torturing any more children or making _them_ torture any more children and – Anthony pulled away.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“I know I said I’m straight, but I’m not,” Neville said. He hadn’t given it any more thought before this moment, but – no, he definitely wasn’t straight.  He definitely wanted to kiss Anthony again and again and again and straight blokes didn’t think that way. “We both could have died today – I nearly _did_ die today, and – I don’t care what my gran says, or anyone else. And I know I’m only doing this because of the adrenaline, but it feels _right,_ doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Anthony said. “It does.”

Neville kissed him again. Anthony’s lips were chapped (and Neville was sure his were, as well) and neither of them had shaved in who knew how long, and Anthony’s hair was as unkempt and dirty as Neville’s own, and Neville was well aware that neither of them were at their physical best, but he felt as if he’d fall to pieces if Anthony didn’t keep kissing  him.

Neville had never actually kissed anyone before, but Anthony didn’t seem to mind. After a few minutes, Anthony pulled away again.

“Happy as I am about this, Nev, maybe you should have a lie down? Let me make sure you’re all right?”

“I feel like I couldn’t possibly rest,” Neville said, but he let Anthony guide him to an empty cot. He felt selfish occupying one when he was _fine,_ but – Merlin, it was nice to lie down.

“Do you mind if I check you for injuries?” Anthony asked.

“No, go ahead,” Neville said. “I trust you, and I’ve seen you heal. Can’t imagine how well you’ll do with proper supplies.”

Anthony cast a few diagnostic spells, and Neville watched his face carefully for any signs that something was off. He didn’t see anything. Anthony leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Nothing too serious. Some dittany for your wounds, and a couple of potions should do it, all right?”

“All right,” Neville said. “And then I can help.”

“And then you can _rest,_ Nev,” Anthony said. “When’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

Neville couldn’t even remember. “Probably before my birthday.”

“So it’s been nearly a year,” Anthony said. “You’ve had so much to worry about for so long. Just rest. I’ve got some dittany on hand, and then I’ll get you your potions, and you can sleep. I probably won’t be far behind you, really. I think Madam Pomfrey will skin me alive if I try to help much longer in my state.”

“Don’t want that,” Neville said.

“Definitely not.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a vial, and summoned a clean cloth. He poured some dittany on the cloth. “Can I?”

It would sting like hell, but Neville knew he needed it. “Go ahead.”

Anthony did, and fuck, that hurt. “I’m really just trying to stay awake until someone from my family comes. I know McGonagall said they’re contacting St. Mungo’s to get some qualified Healers out – because Madam Pomfrey really _can’t_ handle it all on her own, and we can only do so much to help, and my mum’s deputy head in Spell Damage.”

“I ran into my gran on the way here,” Neville said. He winced as Anthony applied some dittany to a particularly nasty wound.

“Sorry,” Anthony said, and the worst part was he actually looked it.

“It’s fine,” Neville said. “I’m sure I could ask my gran to contact your parents…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Anthony said. He looked Neville over. “I know, given our… situation, maybe I’m not the best person to ask this, but d’you wanna take off your shirt so I can look to see if I need to heal anything else?”

Given their situation, Neville didn’t think there was anyone better to ask. “Sure,” Neville said, and Anthony helped him out of his shirt. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before, anyway.”

“I tried not to linger too much,” Anthony said, and of course he had, because he was decent and respectful. He applied some more dittany to other wounds, and they continued to make small talk, which Neville was sure was equal parts to keep him awake and alert as well as to distract him from the pain. When he was done, Anthony pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “You wait here, and I’ll get you your potions, and then you can sleep.”

* * *

Anthony’s mother hugged him tightly as soon as he saw her. Anthony hugged her back.

“Baruch hashem, you’re alive! We were all so worried about you, Anthony, bubbeleh!” She kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, and Anthony was peripherally aware that they were both crying. He hadn’t realised how badly he’d needed this. He didn’t know when the last time he’d hugged his mother had been, let alone cried in her arms.

“Healer, Goldstein, I thought you might be able to convince Anthony to rest. He’s been extremely helpful, but he’s refused to take some Dreamless Sleep and – well, sleep!”

Anthony felt embarrassed, and exhausted, and drained. “I wanted to wait until I saw you – so you’d know I was all right.”

His mother kissed his forehead. “I’m here, and I know you’re all right now. Has anyone looked you over?”

“He insisted it would be a waste of time,” Madam Pomfrey huffed.

“I was the best healer in the D.A.,” Anthony said. “I had to help.”

“Now you have to _rest,”_ his mother said. She turned to Madam Pomfrey. “Any empty beds?”

“There’s one over there by Mr. Longbottom.”

Anthony was too exhausted to protest, or even say that he was perfectly aware of what Madam Pomfrey was up to. He let his mother lead him over to the empty bed next to where Neville was sleeping.

“Mum, you don’t have to look over me. I know it’s probably a lot.”

“Anthony Jacob Goldstein, I’m your _mother._ It’s my job to take care of you.”

He let her. He knew he didn’t have it as bad as some of the others, but it still wasn’t something he wanted to subject his mother to. When she was done, she gave him a goblet of Dreamless Sleep, and stroked his hair. “I do want you to shower when you wake up, but right now… Poppy is right: you need rest.”

He drank the potion, and laid back on the cot. There was a lot to do, really. But he was _exhausted._

-

When Anthony woke up, it was dark out, and he could feel the grime on him like a second skin. He desperately needed a shower. He went to sit up, and immediately found himself surrounded by his family – well, his family that had stayed in Britain during the war.

He knew he shouldn’t be surprised – his parents and aunt Miri were Healers, so they’d probably arrived before he’d even fallen asleep. He glanced over to the bed next to him, where Neville was still sleeping soundly. His gran and Luna Lovegood were sitting beside him. Luna noticed him looking over and smiled.

“Oh, hello, Anthony!” Luna greeted.

“Hello, Luna.” He realised, then, that although Neville had kissed him that morning, Anthony didn’t know if there was anything going on between Neville and Luna.

Luna, it seemed, could read his mind. “Neville’s mad for you, you know.”

“Er – what?”

“Neville,” Luna said. “He’s mad for you.”

With the exception of the past twenty-four hours, Luna hadn’t seen Neville since Christmas. How in the world would she know something like that? He supposed it was possible Neville had told her at some point either before the battle or during the ceasefire, but it didn’t seem very likely.

“Oh,” Anthony said. “Have you been down here long, Luna?”

“Oh, no,” Luna said. “I’ve just come down about an hour ago. I couldn’t sleep very long, but then I’ve spent the past month and a half recuperating, so I don’t think I needed the sleep as much as either of you two did.”

Anthony realised then that he didn’t know _what_ had happened to Luna after she’d been kidnapped from the Hogwarts. But then he didn’t know how to ask, and didn’t think that they were close enough for him _to_ ask.

-

He let himself into the prefects’ bathroom, and took a long bath at his parents’ insistence. It took a while to scrub all of the dirt and grime off of himself. When he felt that he was probably as clean as he was going to get, he cast a charm to cut his hair back to its usual length. He knew he needed to talk to Neville about what had happened – if it had just been adrenaline or impulse or anything else – but he sort of dreaded it.

He knew that Neville was his soulmate, but that didn’t mean that Neville _actually_ wanted to be with him just yet. And then there was the _Zach_ issue. He didn’t think Zach would be too much of a problem, really, even if he wasn’t willing to acknowledge his own soulmate, but he couldn’t be entirely sure. Zach could be incredibly stubborn when he wanted to be, and he’d never liked Neville.

He’d talk to Neville first. That was, Anthony figured, likely to be the less stressful of the two conversations. At the very least, no matter what Neville wanted, he was polite and rational. The same could not be said of Zacharias.

When he got back to the Hospital Wing, Neville was awake and talking to his grandmother. Anthony hesitated. While he was sure that Neville’s grandmother had heard Luna earlier, it still felt like he shouldn’t interrupt them. Neville caught his eye and waved him over, so Anthony went. He felt nervous, but at least Luna wasn’t there anymore. Not that Anthony had anything against Luna, but she had a habit for saying uncomfortable truths without really taking into account who was present. He didn’t typically mind that, but – he thought it best to avoid that sort of thing around Neville’s grandmother.

He sat down in the free chair next to Neville’s bed.

“How long was I asleep, if you had time to shower _and_ cut your hair?” Neville asked.

“Not too long,” Anthony said. “I just have never really been able to sleep in these Hospital Wing beds.”

“I’ve had the practise,” Neville said. “And – Anthony, this is my gran, Augusta Longbottom. Gran, this is Anthony Goldstein. We were in the D.A. together, and he’s an excellent duellist and an even better healer. And – he’s my soulmate.”

Oh, so they were just – going for it. All right. Anthony smiled and reached out to shake Mrs. Longbottom’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Longbottom,” he said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She shook his hand, and then dropped it. Great start, that. “Goldstein – that name sounds familiar.”

“My parents and grandparents _and_ my aunt are all Healers at Saint Mungo’s,” Anthony said. “Well, my grandparents were until about a year and a half ago. And my granddad Michael was at Hogwarts from forty-four to fifty-one. I dunno if you had any overlap,” he added, because he truly had no idea how old Neville’s grandmother _was,_ “but he was in Ravenclaw.”

“Which department at Saint Mungo’s?”

“Er – my grandmother, mum, and aunt are in Spell Damage, my grandfather was in Creatures, Dad’s in Potions.”

“Do any of them work in the Janus Thickey ward?” Mrs. Longbottom asked.

Anthony glanced to Neville. “Oh, it’s fine,” Neville said. “I know you’ve never said outright, but I don’t mind.”

“Then,” Anthony said, “my aunt, Miri Strout, currently does.”

“She’s your aunt?” Neville asked.

“Yeah,” Anthony said. “She was here earlier, but she had to get back to the hospital.”

Mrs. Longbottom didn’t look very impressed, but maybe that was just her face. “Your grandmother wouldn’t be Shoshana Goldstein, by any chance?”

“Yes,” Anthony said. “That’s her.”

“She’s a very talented Healer,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “I was sorry to hear that she retired.”

“She’s a Muggleborn, Mrs. Longbottom. She knew with the way things were going, it was best for her to get out of the country.”

“Well,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “I’m glad to hear that she’s safe.”

“Thank you,” Anthony said. “So am I.”

“And you and Neville are soulmates?”

Anthony knew that a lot of those old Pureblood families, like Neville’s, viewed same-gender couples as less than ideal, but then Anthony _was_ already a Half-Blood. He braced himself for a negative reaction when he nodded and said, “We are, yeah.”

“I wonder why Neville never told me before.”

Anthony didn’t know how to reply to that, because he didn’t really want to _say_ that Neville had been struggling with his sexuality – it wasn’t his story to tell.

“Gran, my seventeenth birthday was two days before the Ministry fell, and we were already at war,” Neville said. “There really wasn’t any time, and we’d only ever been friends before. But Anthony’s great, really.”

She looked over Anthony with a look that would have destroyed a less confident wizard. No wonder Neville had been such a nervous wreck when they were younger.

“This doesn’t mean that you’re not carrying on the family line, Neville,” Mrs. Longbottom said.

“Er,” Neville said. “Anthony’s a wizard, too.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “There are options for such things.”

“My dad used to work in the ward in Saint Mungo’s that specialises in magical insemination using an artificial womb,” Anthony said. “That’s how my cousins were born. I think – is that what you mean, Mrs. Longbottom?”

“It would be ideal,” Mrs. Longbottom said.

“I’m not even eighteen yet,” Neville said. “I think anything like that’s a long way off.”

Mrs. Longbottom hummed. “And what are your plans for the future, Mr. Goldstein?”

“Well,” Anthony said, “I’m going to sit my N.E.W.T.s, then go into the Healer training program at Saint Mungo’s, and work as a Healer. I’m not sure yet what I want to specialise in, but it’s really best to determine that once you’re in the program.”

“I see,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “Why Healing?”

“I want to help people,” Anthony said, “and it’s suited to my own strengths.”

“Anthony was the best healer in the D.A., Gran,” Neville said, and Anthony felt a wave of gratitude. He realised that he was _glad_ then, that his soulmate was Neville Longbottom, of all people. Not just _not_ Zach, but Neville in particular. Neville, who was kind and lovely and brave and humble.

Anthony really was lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may, at some point, continue on with this soulmate AU, focusing on other ships, but for now, that's all I have here!

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on [tumblr](https://xslytherclawx.tumblr.com/)!


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